


Story of Her Own Making

by AppleSoda



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cute, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Writing, pls read their support chain in the game!!!, support convo continuance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSoda/pseuds/AppleSoda
Summary: Bernadetta looks over some encouragement she's gotten, and gets inspired as a result. Sylvain receives an unexpected present.





	Story of Her Own Making

At first, Bernadetta was convinced that the letter was a joke. It had to be, because someone like Sylvain saw everything as fun and games when it came to women. They were there to be asked to tea, or dinner, or complimented on something insipid like the color of their eyes. That much was obvious, despite the fact that she made a beeline from the classroom back to her dormitory without making eye contact— as the Goddess intended.

Nothing Sylvain said to her had mattered. But this time, he hadn’t said how he felt— he had taken time to write his thoughts down. As frivolous as his thoughts seemed, Sylvain had taken the time to read what she had to say, and was drawn into it.

Bernadetta lay back on her bed and held the letter up again, unrolling the parchment just to make sure the words weren’t something that could disappear on her like a spell vanishing into air.As much as Sylvain was unbelievable when he was trying to get dates, the letter he had written her didn’t seem like a lie at all. Even though the paper weighed close to nothing, it emanated something close to warmth as Bernadetta clutched it tightly, afraid to let the message slip through her fingers.

“Does he really mean that?” She thought, turning so that her gaze slipped from the letter to her writing-desk, where new drafts for chapters sat, awaiting her revisionist’s gaze. Then, propping her knees up, she sat up with a slight smile, rolled up the parchment, and hurried over, knowing exactly what she wanted to do next.

= =

Good stories stuck with Sylvain. Felix hated most novels, and always thought the books they read in class were something along the lines of ‘drivel’ whenever there was one where a knight triumphed over evil or a team of scrappy lords were able to overthrow an empire, or the like. But as with most things, Sylvain could do as he liked. And when there weren’t days where was worried about training or distracting his heart with unsuccessful dates, he thought of Bernadetta’s story.

He tapped his fingers against the spine of a library book, knowing that shipments were going to keep being slow unless roads were cleared for more merchants. But as Sylvain prepared to leave the library, he bumped into a much shorter figure, who let out a yelp. Paper went flying about the library, irritating a librarian nearby.

“Hey, Bernadetta!” His eyes lit up. “I was just thinking about you—” Immediately, he regretted putting it that way. That was sure to scare her off, ending any conversation they’d have and any chances he’d get to make things right.

“Oh, no, oh no!” She stammered, grabbing at the pages of whatever she was holding , hurriedly bundling it together again. “I knew I should’ve had it bound. Oh, Bernie, why didn’t you be more careful?”

“Don’t worry about it. Is that another project?” Sylvain grinned, rocking back on his heels. It was nice to see her again, even if she was fretting about it.

“It is…” At the sight of Bernadetta’s slight smile, he knew that it was something just as good as her last one. She held it up for him to see.

“Tale of the Lance of Ruin,” was the title, and on the cover page was a fierce-looking watercolor sketch of a knight. A redheaded knight, at that.

It had been all too easy to read a story about someone else, but this story looked like it could take just as much as it gave. And yet, if there was anyone he trusted to get it right, it was her.

“How’d you make something like this?” Sylvain took ahold of the manuscript. He flipped from page to page, and winced at a bit of the dialogue. It was accurate, down to every last cringe-worthy pickup line.

“I-I had my sources,” stammered the sniper. “Don’t underestimate what I can do.”

And surely enough, Sylvain recalled seeing a blur of a figure run off in the middle of conversations with the Professor, Felix, and Ingrid, too. It hadn’t made sense for any of them to be standing around alone, suddenly dazed. But now everything had made sense. “Sorry if that’s weird, but….I wanted to make you something as thanks. For the letter.” Though she still avoided eye contact, Bernadetta’s gaze was confident when she looked at the story.

Sylvain flipped to another page, where he was riding off into battle with a determined expression. Bernadetta was unsparing when it came to what she faced, and so too would the knight in the Tale of the Lance of Ruin. That, he knew for sure. It was a fragile, vulnerable thing, the story of his that she told. And yet, Sylvain wanted more than anything to see what she made of it.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything. This is…really impressive.” Rifling through the pages, he couldn’t help but smile at the liveliness and warmth with which she had written the foolhardy knight. It was a story he already knew by heart, but one that he’d wanted to hear Bernadetta’s take on more than anything else.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, Bernadetta,” Sylvain tucked the manuscript under his arm gently.“I’ll treasure it.”

“Let me know what you think about this one, too, okay?” This time, she hadn’t run, and she hadn’t hid. Whatever came next was something they could write together, with the trust that they had earned from one another.

“I will. Promise.”


End file.
